Freeze
by Beatrix Bloxam
Summary: Why is it that potions don't freeze? And I am NOT lovesick, merely infatuated! Mindless ramblings of one, Lily Evans. One-shot for a challenge.


A one-shot Lily/James from Lily's POV. Written for the LiveJournal group, 15minuteficlets- basically, I was given a word (freeze, in this case) and fifteen minutes in which to spit out a ficlet. Here it is. Rated PG for… no reason whatsoever? Anyone you recognize belongs to one lovely Ms. Rowling, from whom I am only borrowing her creations.

©2005, Beatrix

Enjoy!

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It's so cold in here. I don't know how the potions keep from freezing. One of those things about the wizarding world that I'll never understand, no doubt. Then again, I'm probably the only witch who's ever wanted to understand. Who cares why potions do or don't freeze, honestly? I mean, I don't even care that much, and I'm the one who asked.

It's really cold in here. I'm wearing these wonder gloves my father bought me for Christmas last year. They have the fingertips cut off, so I can wear them and still manage everyday tasks, like making complicated potions. So my hands are more or less warm- it's just my fingertips that are freezing.

"Doing all right there, Lily?" a voice asks from behind me. I don't need to turn around to know who it is. I hear that voice often enough to know it by heart now.

"Just fine, Potter," I respond breezily, measuring out another cup of ingredients. I don't know why he feels it necessary to constantly talk to me and keep abreast of how exactly I'm doing.

All right, I'll tell you the truth. It's not just that I hear his voice all the time when he's around. I hear his voice even when he's not around. In my dreams. While I'm doing my homework. While I'm walking to class. I should be killing myself- I mean, honestly, Potter's voice _constantly_? Yet, somehow…

It's not really all that annoying.

All right, it's not annoying at all. In fact, I happen to like it. It has this lovely lilt in it that gives me shivers, even when it's not 40 below in the potions classroom. Of course, I'd never tell him that, but… am I pathetic or what?

If you really want to know, I'll be honest… if he asked me out right now, to Hogsmeade or anything, I'd agree. Just like that. Quite a shift, right?

Of course, I'd never ask him. Oh, no. That'd be… that'd be giving into him, wouldn't it? Don't ask me how, because even I don't quite understand that logic. But it would be, somehow, and even a lovesick Lily Evans won't stoop that low.

Wait. I am NOT lovesick. A little infatuated, perhaps, but lovesick? Hardly. Watch me scoff.

Scoff.

Scoff? Ok, I'm not really all that sure. Love is a big word, right? But… well, this is more than an infatuation, I think.

"I should get myself a pair of those." Now he's standing beside me, one finger lightly brushing the top of my gloved hand. I resist the urge to shiver.

"I'll remember that for Christmas," I respond simply, not bothering to look up. He chuckles.

"Oh, so you're going to get me a Christmas present? Guess I'll have to find you something, too," he says, and I can tell he's grinning without even looking up.

Is that just infatuation? I kind of hope so.

"Who said I was going to be the one buying them for you?" I question; before he can answer, class is over and pandemonium breaks loose. I ignore him for the moment (not an easy task) and pack up my books. I don't like to be cool toward him, but what would happen if he knew how I really felt? Disaster, I assure you.

Yet, somehow, he always seems to find me again. I'm a good five minutes away from class by now, and yet he still catches up with me.

"So, Lily," he says, smiling and resting an arm lightly across my shoulders.

"Potter?" I respond, rather more warmly than I'd intended.

"You going to Hogsmeade?" he questions lightly; yet, somehow, I know he's being serious. I shrug, but he doesn't move his arm. I rather like it. It dissipates the cold. And… other things.

"Perhaps," I respond simply; he gives me a look, but I don't bother to look back.

"Perhaps? Perhaps… you could go with me?" I don't respond. "Lily?" I roll my eyes.

"Perhaps I could also go with Severus, Potter- that's hardly a question," I retort. I think it surprised him, but he's not a stupid boy. At all.

"Fair enough. Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" he questions again, but I can tell he's worried. I let a smile cross my face.

"Since you've asked… sure," I respond lightly before ducking out from under his arm. "See you later," I say over my shoulder, meeting his gaze. He's beaming. It's not so cold in here any more.


End file.
